Homelands Pt. 08 Ch. 04

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Author's note

Part Eight picks up where Part Seven left off, in Spring. It is not necessary for you to have read the first six parts of the story, but this may be hard to follow if you haven't read Part Seven.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.

All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.

As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. Either way, I'll try to respond in a timely manner.

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They stood in the clearing they always used whenever they had need to assemble the whole clan. His mother had sent out the summons, whispering on the wind and sending her words rustling through the leaves. Only a few moments later, they began to arrive.

First came Fiona and Seamus. They emerged from the nearest oak tree, holding hands. Cahill struggled with the notion of Seamus, half a tree himself, traveling through trees. But he supposed that so long as his brother was in physical contact with Fiona, nothing else mattered. There wasn't an oak in Faerie that would deny a single request from her.

Brittany and Finnegan weren't far behind. In their fey forms, a swan and a stone-beaked crow, they covered ground a lot quicker than anyone else. Well, except those who didn't cover ground at all, obviously. They transformed back into human form just as they reached the ground. Aside from a cloak of white swan feathers draped about Brit's shoulders, neither of them wore a thing. There was no reason their kind couldn't pull their clothing through along with them when shapeshifting, but the belief that it was impossible to do so was strong enough among mortals that the two of them had taken to pretending they faced such a limitation. The cape was only because swan maidens were alleged to require a skin of a swan to make their transformation.

But it wasn't his sister's nudity that drew his attention.

As soon as Cahill saw the look on her face, he knew it was bad.

Brittany's expression didn't escape his mother's notice either. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight even as she drew herself up to her full height, doing her best to be the image of strength and resolve that the clan needed her to be.

The others did a better job of hiding their despair, but their stony masks sang a somber tune all their own. Under any other circumstances, Seamus and Fiona would have been delighted to see them. Finnegan probably wouldn't have shown any more emotion than he currently was, but he'd be the exception.

"Where's-" Cahill began to whisper to his mother.

She cut him off with a quick, soft "Shh."

"I'm so glad you're back," Fiona said in a voice that fell something short of ebullient. "But unfortunately we have some bad news."

"So I see," their mother replied.

Seamus laid a hand on his sister's shoulder, offering her support she probably didn't need but would certainly still welcome. The first thought to pass through Cahill's mind was that it was good that Fiona hadn't been among those who'd gone missing. He immediately regretted thinking it. No member of the clan was disposable. That any of their number were absent was a tragedy. But even after telling himself that he shouldn't think such things, he was grateful for Fiona's presence, and not just because he'd always felt a little closer to her than anyone other than his mother. He couldn't help thinking that the family would have suffered an even worse fate if not for her.

As she filled Cahill and their mother in on what had happened, though, Fiona attracted certain looks from Finnegan that left Cahill with the distinct impression that their cousin was somewhat less impressed with her leadership abilities. Were it up to him, Cahill suspected, the four remaining members of Clan Walker would have done everything in their power to rescue the ones they'd lost. Even if that meant an assault on the queen herself. That the clan matriarch had returned did nothing to vindicate Fiona's inaction in Finnegan's eyes.

If those truly were his cousin's sentiments, though, he must have been keeping them to himself. Had he been foolish enough to voice them within earshot of Seamus, he'd likely have been run out of the clan's territory. Or worse.

Still, even Cahill was a little surprised that they hadn't done anything but wallow in misery since Oona and the others had disappeared. His aunt had warned him of the danger his family was in a few days ago. The time they'd wasted had brought them a fair deal of guilt. His mother especially. And they hadn't even known what had happened.

Of course, a few days in the Dreaming was only a few hours here in Faerie. He had to remember that. Though he and his mother had lived together for more than five years, less than three months had passed here since they'd left.

The real surprise wasn't that the four of them hadn't done anything yet, but the situation that had arisen in the first place. Why had Oberon told Oona that the queen kept her mother hostage? The failure of Oona, Reilly, and Gallech to return from their attempt to rescue Grandma Aeife sure made the visit from the Lord of Valor look like bait for a trap. But he couldn't have been lying. That meant that there were four Walkers in need of rescuing from the Lady of Shadows, not three. But it also meant that there was something deeper going on than they saw. There was a trap being laid, he suspected, but it wasn't intended for Oona. The queen and her prince were only pressuring the most vulnerable pieces in order to force the Walkers to move their heavy hitters out into the open. Then the hammer would drop.

He hadn't exactly expected a big group hug, but he hadn't been prepared for this. In his mind, he'd pictured a very different conversation. One that was heavy with worry and grief, yes, but also marked by a cautious optimism and perhaps even some somber celebration. He wanted to tell the others about Kearney, and about his children. But there was no room for anything on the agenda just now besides their treacherous Faerie Queen. That, and the tension that lay between them over how to handle said queen.

Cahill studied Finnegan's blank face. What if it had been his mother who had gone missing? How patient would he be with a cousin who refused to act?

Not very.

True, Finnegan wasn't as close to Aunt Oona as he was to his mother. The center of his universe, of late, was Brittany. But even so.

"So," his cold-faced cousin asked after a few moments went by without anyone saying anything, "what are you going to do about it?"

Sympathetic as he was to the position Finnegan was in, no one took that tone with Caronwyn. Not while Cahill was around.

"Whatever we think is best," he said. "And you-"

His mother cut him off with a quiet stare. Then her brown eyes turned to regard her nephew. "First, I'm going to perform a divination. There's no sense going in there blind."

Finnegan gave her the barest of nods.

As soon as he did, Brittany let out a sigh of relief. Then she promptly stared at her feet, lest she be forced to notice the attention she'd drawn to herself.

Cahill wondered where his little sister would stand if her lover and her brothers came to blows. He'd grown close to her in the weeks before their prince had sent him back to the Dreaming, but would that matter? What was a little bonding over the shared experience of being a stranger in one's own homeland compared to true love? And could he doubt that that was precisely what she thought she'd found in Finnie?

"It'll be stronger if we form a circle," Fiona said. All eyes turned to her as she did. "You'll get a more reliable reading," she added, as if their mother might not have understood what she'd meant. "Might as well make use of us, long as you've got us here."

A slight smile formed on the clan matriarch's face.

What Fiona said was true enough, but that wasn't the reason why she'd suggested it. And their mother knew that. She was just trying to defuse the tension. To remind them that they were a team. To make Finnegan feel useful.

"An excellent idea," their mother said.

And so, with only a little awkwardness, they joined hands and formed a circle around their druidess. A jolt of ecstasy shot up Cahill's right arm as Fiona took his hand in hers. Seamus gave him a little nod as he took hold of Cahill's left hand, which Cahill returned.

It felt good to be surrounded by his kin. He became keenly aware that he was more than just a man. That he belonged to a clan of immortal beings, all bound to one another through love and lust and blood and song. Together, they possessed a strength that went beyond that of six fey standing alone. The queen might not tremble before them, but neither could she trifle with them. They were a force to be reckoned with.

What did Clan Dreamsmyth have on them?

Well, numbers, for one thing. Also experience and raw power. But so what? They weren't united the way Clan Walker was. Half their number plotted against the others.

And a few of them seemed like they'd be perfectly happy to forswear their lineage and distance themselves from politics. What support could Queen Titania expect from Kearney? Whose side, if any, was the Puck on? Would Macha bestir herself if it meant risking her life or that of her children? Besides Oberon and perhaps his father, would any other Dreamsmyths truly stand by their queen?

The Walkers were as one. Titania would do well to fear them.

Cahill's mother pulled her hood up, covering her beautiful red hair with coarse brown fabric. For the time being, she ceased to be a goddess of divine beauty and instead became a force of nature. A mysterious and powerful being that creation itself should fear. The power radiating from her was incredible.

Once his mother forged them into a chain, Cahill only felt stronger and safer still. A faint nimbus appeared around Brittany and her Libido began to thrum. Her fair skin looked less like cream than it did a lamp shade. Then Finnegan and Fiona lit up the same way. Cahill and Seamus did so as well. The deep well of energy he felt inside him became a vast ocean. He couldn't possibly exhaust it if he tried. There was so much power at his disposal, he nearly fell to his knees in disbelief.

Five beams of light appeared, joining each of them to the robed figure at the center of their circle. Once they connected to Caronwyn, the ocean grew deeper still. It was almost more than Cahill could comprehend. They were more than the sum of their parts. More than Faerie could accommodate. The ground beneath their feet rolled and undulated like a stormy sea. The air vibrated and the trees sang. Animals cried out in awe and fear, some paying homage while others begged mercy. Dead leaves and dried twigs fell upwards, as though gravity had been reversed for them and them alone. A heavy fog rolled in, obscuring everything but their glowing forms. It was as if the Emerald Court itself was begging them for mercy, asking them to kindly take their business elsewhere.

They watched in silence as the druidess performed her divination. She cast down a fistful of bark and twigs, nuts and berries, then stared silently at them. For a long time.

If there was a message in that heap, it was lost on Cahill. So far as he could tell, there was no pattern there. But his mother clearly saw great and terrible tidings. Ominous portents. Perhaps even transcendental truths. The past, present, and future were laid out before her.

As her silence stretched out, Cahill began to fear that Finnegan might interrupt her. But though his cousin's impression of a boulder grew less and less convincing, his lips remained sealed. He clenched and unclenched his jaw, tightened and loosened his grip and the hands of the women to either side of him and gently swayed back and forth, making not a sound.

Then he froze.

It took Cahill a moment to realize that his mother was staring directly into her nephew's eyes. She rose slowly to her feet, stepped delicately past the dire news strewn out before her, and pressed a hand to Finnegan's cheek.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"No," he said in disbelief.

The druidess didn't respond.

"Tell me she's okay."

Still no response.

Finally, Finnegan let out the breath he'd been holding in. Words failed him, but tears did not. As his dark eyes began to water, he tried to blink away his emotions, but they ran burst forth all the same, blazing trails down his stony cheeks.

Cahill hadn't thought he'd ever see his cousin cry. Yet, at that moment, the only thing that would have been stranger would have been if he didn't. The words hadn't been said aloud, but they all knew what the divination had said.

Oona was dead.

No one knew what to say, but when Finnegan broke the circle and threw his arms around his aunt, it became clear that their presence was no longer needed. The other four of them slowly slipped away, leaving their mother to comfort their cousin as only she could.

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After they first left the clearing, awkward silence reigned. But it wasn't long before Brittany broke it by asking if they thought their aunt Oona was dead.

"Looks that way," Fiona had said, wrapping an arm around their sister's shoulders.

So Seamus and Cahill and Fiona all tried to cheer their little sister up, as if she'd lost someone dear to her while they had not. Of course, Brittany hadn't been any closer to Oona than the rest of them, but then it wasn't really their aunt she grieved for.

In truth, none of them had been as close to her as they could have been. But the news still hurt. Deeply. It also filled Cahill with a rage such as he'd never known. If his mother would have approved, he'd have launched himself like an arrow directly at the queen's heart.

Instead, he had to try consoling his sister, who was more worried about Finnegan than anything. That, and wait for word from their mother about how to proceed.

"I can't talk about it anymore," the youngest Walker declared after a time, eyes red and cheeks puffy. "Tell me what happened to you and Mom," she said to Cahill.

So he did. Reluctantly, at first, but with increasing enthusiasm. It took some effort to set aside the anger, sadness, and pain brought on by news of their aunt's death. But he'd longed to tell her about his sons. Her, and Fiona. Seamus too, though he didn't expect his brother to react quite the same way.

Which, of course, he didn't.

The girls did, though. They couldn't believe he and their mother had broken the queen's laws, albeit unknowingly. Nor could they get enough details about their nephews. They wanted to know how much they'd weighed and what their first words were, the color of their eyes and when they'd started teething. Cahill almost forgot that Brittany had left the Dreaming just a short while ago, and that she hadn't been of an age where her friends would started having children when she had.

They were all busy talking about his children, almost as if everything were fine, when Finnegan showed up looking like death. Everyone's mood immediately dampened as they were reminded by the news they'd been trying to keep their minds off.

Only the trees spoke, their rustling leaves offering their condolences.

Guilt bore down on Cahill like an avalanche. He'd been so eager to tell his brother and his sisters about Ty and Niall, and so pleased that the news excited them as much as he'd hoped it might, that he'd gotten a bit carried away. He certainly hadn't forgotten about Oona, but he could only imagine how it must look to their cousin to see them laughing and smiling the way they had been.

"Your mother wants to see you," Finnegan said to Seamus, voice devoid of emotion. "We're to, ah, lend her our strength. If you know what I mean."

As if anyone could have doubted his meaning.

Brittany blushed. Cahill could all but hear her protest that Finnegan shouldn't have to so much as think about sex at a time like this, let alone with his aunt. And if he was to distract himself from his grieving with the pleasures of the flesh, he should do so with her.

The blush drew their cousin's attention. "You and Fiona are to do the same for Cahill," Finnegan said, in the same voice he'd use to announce that their mother wanted them to take out the trash. "Apparently the two of them are going to face the queen, so they're going to need to fill all the way up."

Cahill looked an apology at Brittany, giving her a little shrug. "If the matriarch says so, who are we to argue?" his gesture seemed to say. At least, he hoped she took it that way.

Yet his heart started racing. The guilt he'd felt a moment before multiplied. Their mother was instructing them to have sex. He'd only be complying with an order, and for good reason. But he wanted to reconnect with his sisters, and he'd enjoy doing so far more than was appropriate under the circumstances. Did that make him a selfish, insensitive beast? More monster than man? Or was it only to be expected of one of the fey?

Were any of their kind ever not in the mood?

He looked his sisters up and down. Brittany still wore nothing but her swan cape. Her narrow little hips protruded beautifully, begging to be kissed and sucked. Her breasts were modest compared to Fiona's, let alone their mother's, but they were oversized for a girl of her build. And her thick, dark nipples were absolutely perfect. She was incredibly pretty too. Prettier than her sister. For her part, Fiona looked as good in that green dress as she ever had. The billowy sleeves swept the ground below, but her beautiful bubble butt hung out, hardly any of its vast wonder hidden from view. She might not have been quite as pretty as Brittany, her lips being a bit thinner, her nose broader, and her chin a bit squarer, but she was pretty. And that body was nothing short of amazing.

Damn, but he'd missed the two of them.

No one compared to his mother. No one. If he had to choose just one lover, there'd be no question who he'd choose. But they didn't love the way mortals did. Didn't pledge their bodies to one person the way they did their hearts. And though he'd never feel for his sisters what he felt for their mother, he did feel something for them. Something more than mere lust, though lust was certainly a part of it. He truly loved them. Not the way he loved his mother, but not the way mortal men loved their sisters either. He needed them. Needed to hear their laughs and see their smiles. Needed to feel their flesh and kiss their lips.

Especially Fiona.

He didn't want to feel any differently about his older sister than he did the younger one. But he did. She'd been as much a mentor to him as their mother had been. More so, back before he'd left the Dreaming. And though she had neither their mother's beauty nor her body, she did more for him than the overly slim Brittany did. Besides, Brittany reminded him of too many girls he'd known in the mortal world. Girls he'd had plenty of fun with, but who'd never really connected with him on a deeper level. Fiona wasn't quite like anyone he'd met in the Dreaming. Or in Faerie, for that matter.

There was an air of intelligence and maturity surrounding her. Her deep connection with the forest and her sometimes-green-sometimes-brown hair bespoke a certain virility, a link with the natural world and its life-giving forces that other women lacked. Oona had created life with every footstep, but who couldn't coax a few flowers up out of the dirt? His sister almost seemed to be an avatar of Faerie itself. Just thinking about it made his head spin.